


Grinch

by shieldivarius



Series: Femslash Yuletide 2013 [8]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas Party, F/F, Femslash Yuletide, Pre-Slash, Prompt: Grinch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldivarius/pseuds/shieldivarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The party was the result of a lost bet with Coulson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grinch

“I don’t understand.” 

Natasha stared at the invitation in her hand, a festive bit of paper proudly displaying the date of the Christmas party Melinda had been convinced to throw—okay, she’d lost a bet with Coulson—with a dismayed expression. The party was the day before Christmas Eve, because that was when Melinda had been able to book the party room in her building.

“You’ve never celebrated Christmas before?” Melinda asked, trying not to make it a loaded question. Coulson had also convinced her that inviting Natasha Romanoff would be a good idea, and assured her that her aloof co-worker would come along as long as Clint Barton came as well.

Barton had shrugged at the invite and agreed to come if he didn’t have to bring anything. 

Romanoff continued to stare down at the invitation. "Thank you," she said, though she was frowning, "for the invitation, but no, I don't celebrate."

“You should come anyway,” Melinda said. 

Romanoff offered her a tight smile. “I’ll consider it,” she said, and nodded at Melinda before turning and walking away.

That wouldn’t do, since part of the lost bet said she had to get Romanoff to the party. And it wasn’t fair for Coulson to think he was playing matchmaker when he was making Melinda do all the work herself. Or when Romanoff clearly had no interest in what Melinda was offering.

 

Christmas Eve came. The party started, and Barton showed up without Romanoff in his wake. Coulson crossed the room toward her and Melinda glared at him.

“Don’t,” she said. 

“Did you invite her?” he asked, passing Melinda an eggnog that smelled more like rum than anything else. She took a long sip of it, the alcohol burning the back of her throat.

“Yes,” she answered, stirring the drink so that the ice rattled. 

“Then she’ll come,” he said, and he sounded sure. 

Melinda gave him a doubtful scowl. “She said she would think about it.”

“Barton’s here, she’ll come.”

“Why did I agree to host this, again?” she asked, scowl firmly in place.

“She’ll come,” Coulson repeated. Again. “I will put money on it, if you want.”

That looked like a wager she might actually win, and that as much as anything had Melinda backing away from it. “If you think she’s going to come, then she’ll come, but she told me point blank that she doesn’t celebrate Christmas.”

Coulson smiled at her, but he was looking past her. “Then maybe her heart grew three sizes,” he said, and Melinda rolled her eyes at the reference but turned to see what he was looking at, anyway.

Natasha Romanoff hovered in the entrance to the party room, undoing the buttons on her coat and glancing around. She was dressed in head to toe in black, probably because the invitation had asked people to dress festively—at Coulson’s insistence—but she’d come.

“Go get her coat,” Coulson prompted.

Melinda scowled at him. “You’re treating me like you think I’ve never been interested in anyone before.”

“May’s first crush,” he said, eyes laughing at her. “Go.”

Melinda shoved her half-empty eggnog at him and tried not to stomp as she crossed the room.

“You came,” she said, holding out her hand for Romanoff’s coat. 

The redhead nodded, and held out a bottle of wine wrapped neatly in cellophane. “I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to bring something,” she said. Melinda hung up the coat on the rack, and took the wine, too. 

“You didn’t have to,” she said, placing it under the decorated tree in the corner, next to a couple of other things people had brought and given to her, including a wrapped box from Coulson with a scrawled winking face on the tag that she suspected was a gag gift and didn’t want to know the contents of.

“Clint said that as well, but he views Christmas the same way I do.”

“You really don’t celebrate?”

Romanoff shrugged. “Not much cause,” she said. “And in America any feeling it had left is cheapened by commercialization, anyway.”

“Come have dinner with me tomorrow,” Melinda said, and allowed herself a moment to feel mortified because Romanoff looked shocked, before she allowed that the rum had hit her hard, and went with it. “There’s a little restaurant down the street. I know the owner, I can get a last minute reservation.”

Natasha blinked at her. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll look forward to it.” An appraising look in her eye, she offered Melinda a tiny smile. 

Melinda returned it.

**Author's Note:**

> http://shieldivarius.tumblr.com


End file.
